


Laughing at Death

by Tranquil_Tevine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of humor, Hurt/Comfort (a little), Morbid humored Harry, Physical Abuse, Sarcasm dial's turned up, Suicide Jokes, Swearing, forgive said sense of humor I have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:36:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tranquil_Tevine/pseuds/Tranquil_Tevine
Summary: It was during one time at Number 12 Grimmauld place, where Harry could no longer sleep.A conversation with Sirius leads the man to discover that not all is well as he had thought at The Dursleys.





	

Eyes blinked blearily in the dimmed room, taking a short moment to adjust to their surroundings. Grabbing his wand from the side table, he cast a quick tempus, flopping back onto his pillow with a muffled thump.

  
“5am.” Harry groaned. Bloody hell!

Ever since he'd come to live with those damn Dursleys, the concept of a lie in wasn't in his vocabulary. Either at the crack of dawn or earlier, he was always forced to wake up to complete various household chores. Most of them took up the entire day. Naturally, the Dursleys themselves never rose till at least after 8am but he never risked sleeping in more in case he was caught and had 'the magic beat out of him.'

He wasn't sure they'd stop. There's not a chance in hell they could beat the magic out of him. They beat him often enough though so it wasn't for lack of trying. More than likely his uncle would overstep the mark and kill him. He almost welcomed death, until he remembered Sirius, who had just recently come into Harry's life. Remus too. That didn't stop his humor from often taking a morbid turn, which disturbed some people. Ah, each to their own.

He was on the outs with Ron and Hermione. No one knew why, not even them, but he did. Years of conditioning from The Dursleys ensured that Harry was a master at hiding his true feelings, talents and abilities. Everyone saw a cheerful 13-year-old boy with average and not remarkable abilities. In truth, he was far from cheerful. Sure he had his happy moments but those were few and far between, The Dementors from the school year having a more lasting effect that anyone really knew. Though the memory of his parents falling to Voldemort's wand was a faint one as the years went by, those soul sucking bastards returned it to the forefront of his mind with a renewed vengeance, which more often than not haunted his dreams along with the various other ones he had.

He knew he was jaded and bitter, more often than not choosing to stay pessimistic. Went hand in hand with the death jokes really. He believed himself to be above average, the indication when he learned how to cast a Patronus, a spell some adult wizards couldn't even do. Contrary to popular belief, he did read, but usually alone. He charmed the front cover to something innocent since a lot of his chosen texts were questionable, the Black library included.

No, the reason why he was no longer friends with Ron and Hermione (not that they knew that) was because of their betrayal. He'd been horrified and saddened when he'd learned that the pair were bribed to continue being his friend when one Albus Dumbledore approached them, after the sorting feast back in first year. Perhaps their intentions to befriend him had been genuine before this, but the promise of fame and knowledge respectively ensured that the friendship wasn't a true one. The man's subtle manipulations ran deep, Harry noticed them plain as day but those not accustomed to those ways wouldn't take notice. Harry did.

He blamed Dumbledore, mainly, but he knew he could never form a friendship with them again, not after this. At one point he would have been angry, but lately, that anger had dissipated and with it, left behind a bone aching weariness and dulled eyes which didn't belong on one so young.

The Dursleys upped his abuse before Sirius had invited him to stay the rest of the summer at Grimmauld Place, apparently deciding to demonstrate how deep their loathing ran before he could leave their clutches, the welts, cuts and bruises beneath his clothing signifying this. They would be gone soon, though. He had remarkable healing prowess and to his delight, Parselmouths could heal themselves and others with little effort and used to be renowned healers and snake speakers, the Parselmagic saved countless lives. Over the years the healing part was forgotten, but Harry had found the usage searching through books in The Restricted section at Hogwarts late at night. At the moment he was too weak to heal all of his injuries, due to the lack of nutrition in his diet, so his magic took a bit of a nosedive. After a few days of actual food, though, he was sure he could heal the damage done.

It had saved him on more than one occasion. He was glad to be at Grimmauld Place.

 _'The house is like me. Normal on the outside, dead on the inside.'_   Harry smirked a little, rubbing his eyes. His thoughts were always the most morbid upon waking. Now there was irony at its finest.

Shuffling off the bed softly, Harry was craving a strong cup of coffee. He decided on the decaf version since the caffeine pretty much fucked him over in school, the sleepless nights eventually making him pass out. He shuddered in horror for the week he was made to stay in The Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was an absolute demon when she wanted to be.

Creaking open the door to the kitchen, he was greeted with the sight of Sirius, a cup of his own and a fag in hand. He wore the same clothes as he had earlier which were not wrinkled, so the man can't have slept at all.

Harry was only mildly surprised, considering Sirius had spent the better part of 12 years inside Wizarding Society's damp and dark shit hole, it must have left the man with some degree of insomnia. As for the fag, he could hardly blame him, he was probably a human stress ball.

Harry smiled briefly. “Morning Sirius.” He moved over to the counter, before pulling out the decaffeinated coffee tin, setting the kettle to boil. Once clicked, he poured himself a cup and seated himself near the older man, hands which were freezing, slowly warming up.

_'Huh, my hands are cold. Like death. I'm sat in Grimmauld Place, truly is a Grim Old place really. Sirius is smoking which often leads to death. Death is probably in love with him, his surname's black for fuck's sake!'_

He almost didn't hear Sirius' response as his lips twitched from holding back laughter. He was knackered and it was driving him insane clearly.

“Morning Pup. You're up early.” He looked at Harry curiously.

He took the time to answer, wincing a little when the coffee burnt his throat. “I'm always up early, it's been the same for a long time. I'm never going to be a Ron and I frankly don't want to. He's a human dustbin and an alarm clock's worst nightmare.” He half smiled at Sirius' snort, before indicating to his hand. “I could do with one of those.”

Sirius grimaced a little. “Sorry, shouldn't be puffing away in front of you, bad influence and all that.” He banished the rest of the fag with a wave of his wand. “You're too young anyway, it's a bad habit.”

Harry rested his chin on his folded arms, eyeing Sirius with amusement. “I'm not really interested in smoking to begin with, just seemed like a good stress reliever. If I did take it up then hey, I'm pretty much marked by death anyway, what with surviving the green snot. You're practically dead to begin with, you're a grim.”

Sirius palmed his face a little. “Gee thanks, Harry.” he uttered sarcastically. “You sure know how to make a bloke feel better about himself. I have yet to get used to your sense of humor.”

“I'll take it with me to the grave,” Harry whispered, as though sharing a great secret.

Sirius barked a laugh, despite himself.

They talked for a little more before both decided to part ways. Though as Harry stood up, Sirius froze in shock. As he was walking away, he stretched his arms above his head. The pyjama shirt he had been one of Dudley's from years ago but was finally getting too short, but definitely not too small. It rode up and Sirius could see glimpses of some rather nasty bruises.

Deciding to leave his godson, for now, Sirius vowed to have a talk with Remus later.

* * *

 

“Filthy half blood! How dare you befoul the ancient and noble house of Black!”

Aw, fuck. Harry had done a 'Tonks' as Sirius called it this morning, waking up the banshee known as Ms Walburga Black. He hadn't slept since waking and frankly, he felt like winding her up a bit.

“Oh bugger off with your incessant whining.” Harry retorted sharply. “By your logic, I'm cleaner than Purebloods. See you have the words the wrong way round. Instead of filthy Pureblood, it should be pure filthy blood. In my books, that's worse than half filthy blood. It suggests that the other half of said blood is clean. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.” Harry stuck his tongue out at her.

If the painted woman could redden with rage, she would. “You're a taint of shame! Surrounding yourself with filthy half-breeds! You dare to besmirch the house of my father's-”

“I swear to god I would rather have a love child with Voldemort than be related to you, I'd sooner do myself in.” Harry rubbed his temples. “Do you ever shut that enormous trap of yours? If I cut into your wrist and the blood flowed and I did the same to mine, I can guarantee that our blood would be the same. Red, sticky, metallic tasting and a bitch when dried and crusted.”

The curtains fluttered wildly. “I should cut your tongue out for that cheek of yours. If I were alive I would kill you, you filthy creature!”

“I almost wish you would kill me, least I could rest in peace. But since you can't, go fuck yourself!” Harry claimed almost cheerfully, before wiggling his fingers in a parody of a wave before flipping her off. He turned back round. “Oh and I'm not Kreacher, he is.” He pointed to said mumbling house elf in the corner, before aiming his wand behind him to place a very strong silencing charm on the portrait.

Sirius and Remus were stood in the doorway. Remus barely holding back his laughter but Sirius had no such restraint.

“Oh, Harry!” He had tears running down his face and didn't notice when Harry flinched and winced when Sirius thumped him on the back, though one werewolf did. “That's the funniest thing I've seen in years. Next time she's disturbed I'm definitely getting you to deal with her.”

Harry and the two marauders were the only ones in the house. Occasionally other people would drop by, though he had yet to run into Snape. He was almost looking forward to it since the man couldn't dock points or give out detentions, though he probably would once school was back in session.

Remus smiled warmly. “How are you, Harry? I haven't seen you in a while.”

Harry shook the man's hand.” I'm not bad actually, even when death follows me around like a bitch in heat.”

The man blinked for a few moments, before snorting. “An interesting choice of words.”

“I do try,” Harry commented rather dryly. “I'll see you two lovebirds later!” He winked before heading off to some room in the library.

Sirius grimaced. “Eww! I like girls! No offence Moony but you're a bit masculine for my tastes. If there was a female version of you though I probably would have a shag.”

Remus looked at Sirius incredulously, before walking off, muttering to himself. “Too much information, Padfoot."

Sirius slapped his head. He'd meant to talk to Harry about those bruises, but the amusing display with his deceased mother's portrait made him completely forget. Oh well, he'd talk to him later.

Harry was currently in the kitchen, using the table to scribble something down on a piece of parchment. In truth, he was bored and merely doodling.

He felt more than saw a bat like presence in the room, currently assuming that Snape was here for one reason or another.

The man swooped on him. Harry half expected to feel a pair of fangs puncture his neck.

“Ahh, Mr Potter.” Snape arched one elegant eyebrow. “I can see, as usual, you are not doing something productive with your time. I fear for your brain cells and their obvious lack of use.”

Harry arched a brow of his own, reclining slightly in the chair. “And what would you know? I'm actually writing a will. I fully expect I'll meet Voldemort-” He ignored Snape's flinch and hiss, “at some point in this life and I'm pretty sure the noseless one will off me before I can do so much as utter one syllable. Instead of a burial, I have ordered for my cooling corpse to be sent to the dungeons, whereby you can dissect me to your heart's content and use me for potions ingredients. Oh, I don't know," Harry pretended to think for a moment, eyeing Snape as though he was said potions ingredients. “You could always brew a batch of essence of idiocy, I hear it goes down a treat. Crabbe and Goyle seem to have overdosed, though.”

The man's eyes glittered with some unreadable emotion. Harry refused to think of amusement because that was impossible. The man was like a walking funeral. It was like Hermione saying she'd dance naked round a pile of Hogwarts: A History books which she'd happily chucked into a pile and burned, it just wasn't possible.

“Indeed.” Snape's cloak billowed a little before he chose to take a seat across from Harry, staring at him.

Harry's eyes twinkled. “I know I'm gorgeous, but would you really willingly spend your time in the same room with the one person you wished was a cumshot?”

The man across from him choked on air. “Potter! While that may be true you're lucky I can't dock points, though I can assure you that I will be.”

Harry sputtered for a minute. “I essentially just insulted my own existence! Why are you punishing me for that?”

“Not for that.” Snape shook his head, before glaring. “The part where you stated I wanted to spend time with you and that I found you.” He sneered. “Irresistible.”

Harry shrugged. “What else explains your behaviour? You claim I have celebrity status and have fans fawning all over me and that I get special treatment. That's true, but it all comes from you. If you've witnessed any of my other classes, which I know you haven't, I'm treated like everyone else. With you, you pay special attention to me, even if it's not the good kind. Rather that than you toss your underwear in my face. I might just go visit Lockhart in St Mungo's so he can blast my mind with one of his special obliviates.” Harry looked a little green.

A pink tinge coloured Snape's cheeks. “Potter you will be scrubbing cauldrons until you graduate, I guarantee you. No, I came here because," Snape gritted his teeth. “You performed well during your potions practical, the best in many years of your age group and I have been told-” The poor sod was squeezing words out like a particularly troublesome shit, “To offer you advanced potions tutoring if you should wish it.” Not waiting for an answer, Snape practically ran.

It took a minute for Harry to pick his jaw up off the floor but when he did, he was more than happy.

“FUCK YEAH!” He sprinted to the distant form of Remus and leapt onto his back hanging on for dear life.

“Something otherworldly just happened.” He stated seriously, or as seriously as one could state when imitating a tortoise shell. The man took it in stride, supporting his legs with his arms and gave Harry a piggyback before he happily dropped him onto a dozing Sirius. He woke up with a start.

“Ow, Moony!” Sirius yelled. Harry tried to make himself comfortable but was unceremoniously shoved onto the wooden floor, which set aflame some of his injuries.

His eyes watered at the pain, but he didn't make a sound. Standing up, he delivered the good news.

“Apparently I've done so well in potions that I can get advanced tutoring if I want. You should've seen Snape's face!” Harry laughed, that was a memory for the Pensive!

“Shut your trap Sirius, you'll catch flies!” Remus closed Sirius' jaw before taking the seat next to him.

Sirius gaped. “Get stuffed! Snape? Harry, the man can't stand you, I'm pretty sure he'd rather French kiss Voldie.”

“Well, that's what I thought!” Harry exclaimed, arms swinging wildly, much like a windmill. “I think he's ill or something, I'll inquire about his health the next time he swoops by.”

“It's great though Harry, congratulations.” Remus smiled to himself. He may look like James but a lot of his talents and mannerisms were inherited from Lily.

“Thanks, I guess?” Deciding not to ponder on it further, he decided to lie face up across the men's laps, with his head near Sirius and feet near Remus, because why not?

The men didn't bother to argue, they just left Harry in what looked like an uncomfortable position.

* * *

 

It was a few days later that the pair approached Harry to talk about the bruises. Truth be told, Harry had an idea of what they wanted and he was ready to spill. He'd kept the details to himself for far too long and he was sick of being a one man tank without backup. That is to say, without somebody else knowing what was going on and supporting him.

With a resigned yet determined sigh, Harry took the armchair opposite the 2 others in the library. Sirius requested for Kreacher to make some Tea/Coffee with some biscuits, but not until the elf had his week's worth of grumbling.

Harry let the hot beverage ground him. He had to admit even if it was only to himself, that he was nervous. He'd never let on to the abuse he went through, not after that one time he'd told a teacher and she'd called him a liar, thanks to bloody Petunia and her meddling. His teacher had phoned Uncle Vernon and he'd been in a blustering rage for the next few days. Those were some of the worst days of Harry's life and from there he'd learned to shut up.

He was pretty sure though unlike his old primary school teacher, Sirius and Remus actually gave a damn and didn't believe the gossip spread among Privet Drive.

“Harry.”

He looked to Sirius, the one who'd spoken. “Those bruises on your back. Where did they come from? You can tell us and you don't have to lie to protect yourself.”

Harry sighed. “I wasn't going to lie Sirius. I had an idea of what you wanted to speak to me about, you've been on eggshells around me since a few days ago. I assumed you'd seen the bruises and my suspicions were proved correct.”

He stood up to unbutton his shirt, talking as he did so. “You have dear old Vernon and Dudders to thank for them, though the bruises aren't just on my back and there aren't just bruises. The sad thing is I'm used to it. He really laid into me this summer, though I think the entire family wanted to express their deep hatred before I left.”

He let the shirt slip off his shoulders, exposing the canvas of colours which littered his torso. “I can heal these, I just need my magic to replenish some. I've got marks everywhere that's hidden by clothing and I'm sure you don't want to see those.”

He studied their reactions. It was close to the full moon and Remus was pale before but he looked positively dead, eyes widening almost comically. Harry was afraid Sirius would burst something. His skin was turning an unhealthy shade of red and his eyes glinted with madness. His tone was opposite to his appearance however, as he spoke with a deadly, poisonous calm.

“Why didn't you tell anyone Harry? How long has this been going on for?” He was taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. Only Remus' sudden grip on his shoulder stopped him from going to tear them limb from limb.

“You think I didn't try?” Harry glared briefly, letting irritation seep into his tone, before dropping back into the armchair. “I told my primary school teacher once, must have been about 5 or 6 and she called me a liar! The next few days were a nightmare. Vernon found out and he took out his rage on me more than usual and the severity of his punishments seemed to increase permanently. As for how long-” Here he hesitated, bracing himself for the fallout. “I reckon almost as soon as I arrived at their doorstep, perhaps a few weeks into it, I remember nothing else, not even the time I spent with my actual family.” He looked down sadly.

“I am going to tear those bastards apart.” Sirius stated matter of factly. Harry would have preferred his usual anger, this was unlike him and frankly, it made the teen nervous.

“I agree Padfoot, but you can't expose yourself.” Remus looked at the man sternly.

“Wouldn't be the first time I've exposed myself.” He muttered.

Harry let a snort escape him. “I'm all for you teaching them a lesson but might I make a suggestion?” He got 2 nods in response. “Remus, you're not a wanted criminal, You could easily go there and knock some sense into them. Sirius can go with you as Padfoot. Give him a collar and leash and pass him off as your dog. God knows he needs to be restrained, look at the man.”

Harry laughed and squeaked when Sirius dived on him.

“I'll get you back for that comment.” He grinned, his eyes not smiling. “Good plan!” He helped Harry up, before drawing him in gently. “I'm sorry Harry. I should have been there. I spent so much time away from you and it kills me inside that I did so.”

Accepting the only comfort he'd really ever had, Harry patted the man on the back. “Don't be. What matters is you're here now. You also, Remus.” Harry gestured with a free hand. “We're already halfway there, may as well make it a group hug.” He winked, before Remus joined in the little gathering.

“I have a salve for that Harry,” Remus mentioned softly. “There's plenty left for me, I usually use the stuff after I've bitten and scratched myself during the transformations. Would you like me to fetch it for you?”

He eyed the man gratefully. “Thanks, I forgot about that. I usually heal myself but I never had access to salves.”

While Remus left to get the container, Sirius sat Harry next to him, before leaning into his side. Harry was momentarily surprised but put an arm around his Godfather's shoulders, rubbing gently. It seemed the man needed the contact and comfort.

“You know Harry, you can speak to me about anything right?” He looked into emerald orbs, almost pleading.

He smiled in response. “I know Sirius, I trust you. I'm just not used to confiding in people.”

The man nodded, a comfortable silence spreading among them.

Remus returned with the salve, passing it to Harry.

“Ah cheers, I'll go put this on.” He stood up, patting Sirius on the shoulder. Before he left though, he made a request.

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?”

“When you go to The Dursleys, if you get the chance, I beg you to bite Vernon, Dudley or both in the bollocks. I'll love you more than I already do.”

Sirius grinned, almost feral. “Of course! I might chomp down a bit. Never tasted raw testicles.”

Remus choked back a laugh, while Harry grimaced slightly.

“You go for it. Let me know how bad they taste won't you?”

“Will do! Never know I might grow fond of them.” He licked his lips suggestively.

Rolling his eyes, Harry doubted that. With a parting wave, his made use of the salve Remus gave him. Feeling considerably better than he'd ever been in body and mind, he dropped onto the bed and fell asleep.

Once awake, he hadn't a clue how long he'd slept for but it was definitely the best one he'd had in a while. Things actually seemed to be going his way for once, which was a miracle.

 _'Let's see how long that lasts, shall we?'_   He thought, with a challenging smirk. He had no doubt something would happen but for now, he was content.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's unrealistic of abused kids, but I wanted to explore with Harry's personality and attitude instead of the usual denial that anything has happened for fear of punishment.Let me know what you think! Again my strange sense of humor leaks through.


End file.
